ountain.

Directly at the foot of the mountain lay a small lake of azure blue,
at one end of which was a narrow bridge crossing the stream which
formed the outlet to the lake, and from which a footpath wound in the
direction of the solitary house from which the smoke ascended. At the
other extremity of the lake, where the gulch narrowed into a deep
ravine, walled with irregular masses of gray rock, a mountain stream
came dashing down over the ledges, forming a series of cascades, and
with a final leap plunged into the azure waters. It was a wild,
solitary place, and had there been another human being visible, he
doubtless would have been much astonished at the sight of a young
lady, dressed in the height of fashion, lazily swinging to and fro,
half way up the pine covered mountain.

But for Miss Gladden the charm of the situation lay in its solitude;
she was tired of society, and, glad to free herself for a while at
least from its conventionalities, was congratulating herself upon her
good fortune in finding this retreat, all unconscious that others were
already entering into her little world, soon to enter into her heart
and life.

As she swung dreamily under the pines she was aroused by a clear,
musical voice calling her name, and turning, saw the lithe, slender
form of Lyle Maverick, the daughter of her host, rapidly approaching.
Although Miss Gladden had been but a few days among the mountains,
there already existed between her and Lyle Maverick a mutual
admiration, though each was, as yet, unconscious of the admiration of
the other.

Lyle secretly worshipped Miss Gladden as the most beautiful being she
had ever seen, nor was it strange, for Leslie Gladden had all her life
received the homage always yielded to beauty, and from hearts far less
susceptible than that of this untutored child of the mountains; but
Lyle, notwithstanding her surroundings and her disadvantages, was
proud spirited, and did not proclaim her admiration for the beautiful
stranger. Miss Gladden, on her part, admired the imperious mountain
maid, as the loveliest specimen of uncultured, untrained girlhood,
just blossoming into womanhood, that she had ever met. She wondered
how she came to be so unlike her surroundings, and what would be the
result if this wild mountain flower could be transplanted to some more
favorable spot, there to receive the care and nurture bestowed on so
many far less beautiful. She had within the last few days, led by